Author's note: Another case-centric chapter - so no canoodling - but lots of found family stuff and definite hints of Luke and Penelope being a couple. This one includes Spencer's report on what was discovered at the morgue. More mentions of fat hate and some musings about the psychological damage it can cause non-fat people. CM type violence.
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Saturday - December 23 - In San Antonio on a Case
Plan: PRACTICE BEING FRIENDS AT WORK / COUPLE AT NIGHT
Days to Friendship: 9
Relationship Status: Work dinners with found family can be hard.
…..
Emily scans her team to get a sense of how they are holding up. Rossi, Tara and J.J. are clustered together - clearly having a serious tete-a-tete in one corner of the BAU's Ballroom basecamp.
Luke and Spencer are pointing at a map that's been tacked up and marked with circles, red dots indicating where the victims were found, and green dots indicating - she's pretty sure - their residences.
Garcia is probably back with the techs and Matt is nowhere to be seen - so Prentiss checks her watch - and indeed it is 6:45 local which means that her family man Agent has been able to slip away for his "if at all possible call" to say goodnight to his four children. Prentiss knows there will be a second call later tonight (if at all possible) to connect with Kristy. The love and commitment between those two is palpable.
Emily honestly wonders sometimes how they make it all work...
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…she has enough trouble taking care of herself with this job - which as her stomach is uncomfortably reminding her, she has not done a great job of today having wolfed down a tuna sandwich at lunch and nothing since… dinner had better be next - she wonders if they should order something in or go out… they need to talk as a team - Prentiss can practically feel the case clock ticking down to the next tragedy - and restaurants aren't always terribly pleased to have folks show up and talk about murder..BUT a change of scenery could do them all good...
Just then Emily feels her pocket vibrate with an incoming text - she pulls her phone from her pocket and wakes the screen - it's from Garcia…
HEY GAL BOSS EXTRAORDINAIRE! RESERVATION MADE FOR PRIVATE DINING ROOM AT ITALIAN PLACE DOWN THE STREET - THEY ARE EXPECTING US IN 30 MINS - 5 MIN WALK - TELL THE TROOPS THEY HAVE TIME TO CHANGE. OH AND I WILL TEXT MATT SINCE HE'S PROLLY TALKING TO HIS DARLINGS. OH AND BRING YOUR TABLETS - I'M JUST ABOUT TO SEND OVER THE FIRST SET OF COLLATED FINDINGS - WE CAN DISCUSS OVER CAPPUCCINO AND TIRAMISU. CIAO!
The next text is the address. Prentiss smiles down at her phone amazed as always at the perceptive powers of Penelope Garcia… the bureau just can't pay her enough…
"Hey Everyone! Guess what Garcia has organized for us? Oh and she wants y'all to bring your tablets..."
Everyone agrees that the dinner is delicious and for the most part they follow Penelope's edict that no evil or murder be discussed over the main course. So instead they talk about what they did for the holidays as kids (Matt's family went on extra long roadtrips), their most embarrassing holiday moments (Tara had accidentally sat on a juice glass one year and six stitches later found herself at Christmas dinner), and their wildest requests from Santa (Luke had asked for a life sized robot mountain lion when he was five - with hopes of riding it to school).
But finally, coffees and dessert have been served, waitstaff have been dismissed, and it's time to get back to the case.
Penelope's actually the first one with her tablet out looking expectantly at the team as they finish up the tail ends of their conversations - Agents falling silent one by one as each in turn notices the intense look of their beloved technical analyst. Luke who purposely sat at the far end of the table from her to avoid the temptation to smile too much at her - or sneak a touch or two - is actually the last to hush and his guffawing laugh, at some tasteless joke Tara had just laid down, bounces around the room and then falls away as he follows Tara gaze and sees the sea of serious faces turned towards the one person he has been fighting against staring at all through dinner.
Now though - like everyone one else - his eyes are glued to her… her eyes are wide under her glasses, her brow ever so slightly furrowed from the strain of the case, and she's biting her lip.
Luke's hand slides off the table and he grips his knee hard enough for it to hurt. Hard enough to hold himself back from rushing to her side… his arm is just starting to shake when Tara slips a friendly hand over his tight one - gives two reassuring squeezes and then, when she feels him relax, pulls her hand away but not without giving him a couple extra pats that seem to mean "It will be ok - we're all here for her…and you ..stay strong and at this end of the table…we're almost done."
Luke takes a deep breath and is so thankful for friends and colleagues like Tara.
Emily - who seems to have been having a silent conversation with Penelope over who will speak first, with neither of them particularly wedded to being the one to officially end the little bubble of safety the team had found - finally clears her throat and addresses her Agents:
"As much as I would rather hear more about exploding turkeys and model trains, the time has come to review what we've learned today. I think we will start with Reid and then Garcia can do a quick overview of any commonalities that have jumped out to the collating team. From there, I'll open it up to all of you - and we'll see where we're at. No pressure, but I committed to sharing at least a preliminary profile with the lead detective tomorrow morning at 7am…and frankly I'd like to follow that meeting with a full delivery of the profile to the local force."
Rossi's voice claps like sardonic thunder. "Ahh so no pressure at all then? Alright kid, you'd better hurry up and dazzle us. What was to be discovered at the morgue?"
Spencer who's been adding sugar to his coffee, takes a sip - grimaces - and rips and pours another pack starts in - most of his attention still on perfecting his coffee:
"Well, of course most of the victims had been cremated - so the ashes are being submitted to chemical analysis but the full results won't be in for days - maybe weeks - and even then, the M.E's office is not expecting much. Cremation furnaces don't generally leave much trace of poisoning as most toxins are incinerated as part of the process. However, and this could be due to the large Catholic population in St. Antonio, five of the twelve bodies were buried whole and I was able to attend three of the autopsies done today. So with the latest body not yet released there are six relatively complete autopsy reports."
Matt leans forward with his question "So anything unexpected?"
Spencer's cocks his head like a young sparrow - his eyes serious but intense with a curiosity that seems less frequent and infinitely more precious to the team since he returned from prison. "Actually? Yes. They still haven't been able to figure out what substance was used to kill them - although there are several drugs that could have been used: succinylcholine, for instance, a muscle relaxant which was used in 2006 to kill a Nevada Senator. The coroner located a puncture site on Cathy Barlow's upper right thigh - so we can assume that whatever was used was injected. But most interesting? On three of the exhumed bodies - Cathy Barlow, Clayton Sooze, and Bobbi Jean Ramirez - the coroner thinks all had a similar marks on their lower bellies and was able to confirm with a reasonable degree of accuracy that the mark on the last victim is a mechanical purpura-"
Penelope gasps in disgust. "No?! Ick. I really really hate this guy." Everyone looks from Spencer to Penelope's pinched face and back again. Tara is the first to bite…
"And, good Doctor, are you going to tell the rest of the class what a mechanical purpura is when it's at home."
"A mechanical purpura is a hematoma caused by an external force. There are several subtypes and in this case the coroner felt that the additional marks confirmed that it was-"
"Spencer, you know I love you. But if you don't cut the crap and tell them that it is a trumped up quazi-medical term for a garden variety hickey, I swear on all that is purple that I am going to boot your genius butt into next week."
Luke sits up straight, "A hickey??? Just one? On their bellies?"
Spencer nods. "That's the theory. The coroner is checking the other three bodies now to see if there are similar marks. The one on the last victim had teeth marks… which may be interpreted as an escalation of violent intent although there is significant research that suggests that biting with teeth is a common part of much love play. Did you know that the Kama Sutra refers to a love bite as the coral and the jewel…the coral of course is the lips and the jewel the teeth? There are actually eight different types of love bites described in the Sanskrit text - in one variation the lover creates a delicate chain or necklace of interlocking bite marks. Although on our victim's the marks are-"
Matt's voice is dry as he interrupts - not being able to hold back the wry comment "-garden variety hickeys?"
Spencer nods and his hands which were gesturing along with his explanation drop to his lap. "-just so. A single round dark mark made presumably by our unsub sucking on the victim's lower belly peri-mortem."
Prentiss' eyes snap back to alertness - she had slipped into deep thought as soon as the purpura was mentioned - her profiler's brain chewing over the new piece to the puzzle. "DNA? Can the tooth marks be traced or matched?"
"Swabs were taken but Dr. Craven wasn't optimistic. We may be able to compare the bite marks if we ever have a suspect in custody - but they are not very deep or defined so their value as evidence may be limited."
J.J. speaks up now, her tone wondering, "A love bite on three victims - none the same age - one Black - one Hispanic - one Asian - two females and one male. This unsub does not have a type - which was reasonably consistent with a poisoning vigilante - but the hickey suggests a sexual motivation and the lack of a more specific type is uncommon."
Tara's hand unconsciously - protectively - cups her stomach - but her professional devil's advocate comes to the fore… "...but can we assume the marks were sexually motivated? Why the belly? Stomachs are intimate - but they are hardly the epitome of erogenous zones…"
"Says you." Penelope darkly mutters almost under her breath. Luke catches her words just at his threshold of hearing and bites his lip - not quite sure if he's biting back a smile or a grimace. He wants to weave his fingers with her so badly… offer comfort... he knows he left at least one mark on her belly just last night while worshiping…
He swallows hard as the memory drags his attention back to the case. This is important. Life or death.
"...could the marks indicate ownership? Or authorship - a literal signature - I was here - I killed them. Or could it be desecration - communicating disgust - condemnation of their weight?"
"But why a hickey not a cut or a burn or punch or shot? I agree with J.J. I think there has to be a sexual element. This guy is getting off on something about this but whether anger or arousal…his control is absolute. Imagine having the discipline to leave just one mark…"
Penelope scowls down at her tablet and speaks up louder this time. "Control or disgust? Look, I don't know if a lot of women have this experience but men who are attracted to me are not always happy about it. I've… um… dated… more than one guy who was all sweet nothings and hot to trot but then severely remorseful or y'know mean afterwards… like it was my fault for tricking him into… wanting… someone like me. Like I had suddenly become sinful or unclean or… poisonous…"
Luke's head jerks up but he's looking anywhere but at Penelope. The almost-epiphany that spiked through him is battling to transform jn something coherent cohesive useful while the rest of him is fired up by the murderous urges clamouring inside of his brain and body.
Sensing his turmoil, Tara again puts a hand on Luke's sleeve - looking worriedly enough at Penelope for both of them.
Emily covers Penelope's hand with her own - sharing a worried look with J.J.
J.J. pushes away from the table and starts to angrily pace the small private.dining room.
Matt is mulling over the new options - his jaw working…
Rossi is outwardly cool but inwardly squirming at the memories of the once or twice or twenty times when his younger self wasn't as kind as maybe he could have - should have - been.
Spencer's eyes are closed as he sips his over-sweet coffee and thinks about the probabilities and the different types of poisoners. Calculating and predicting.
"...poisonous… poison… Do you think that's it? A love turned to hate thing?"
Penelope's eyes are wide and earnest - her blond hair halo-ing her head - framing her expression. The question is said to the team at large but its tone is directed unthinkingly at her lover. Penelope is not just posing a question about the case, but about the workings of the universe. She is asking for light in the darkness.
Luke meets her eyes then - his face impassive - his tone steel derision - not directed at Penelope but at the picture of the world she and this case has opened up.
"It would explain unexpectedly attractive partners."
"How so?" Rossi leans into his question - his whole attention focused on Alvez - the timber of his voice betrays real curiosity.
Luke answers Rossi but speaks directly to Penelope.
"Imagine falling in love with someone completely amazing. Someone that your friends and family - maybe strangers - casually imply or even flat out tell you isn't good enough for you because the person you love happens to be fat... and you aren't. But you know… you know… something they don't… no matter how it looks to the outside world… you are the lucky one… you are the one isn't good enough… and yeah the person you love is beautiful on the inside - but to you they are also beautiful - desirable - on the outside… but… but… you can't help it.. part of you believes your friends… your family… believes the anti-fatness propaganda you've been fed and swallowed your whole damn life… and so part of you believes you're lowering your standards…you're doing your lover a favour by being with them… by deigning to love them and then… and then…"
Luke stumbles on the ugliness…so Emily completes the thought.
"...and then something happens and they reject you. Maybe you try to fix things - ask for another chance…"
J.J. stops pacing. She death-grips the fancy wood of the backrest of her empty chair then adds a theory into the pot…
"What if it's the couple's happiness that first captures the unsub's attention? Like some sort of real-life how-to video on happy relationships with fat people?"
Tara is nodding "...but then the switch flips and instead of admiration and love it's self-recrimination, self-disgust..."
Rossi is there with the topper, "But that's too painful and so the rage and hate is turned outward...and no one would - could - blame you..."
Penelope is a million miles away - a lifetime ago - but the words are here and now - they are not words she is saying but words that were said to her.
"You're gonna regret this. I am the best thing that will ever happen to you. Better than you deserve. Fat Bitch."
Back at the hotel the team splits at the elevators - no one suggests a nightcap at the bar - they will be delivering the profile first thing and they need to retreat to their own corners and hopefully unwind, get some perspective, and maybe some sleep.
This time the groups are not divided along gender lines - Prentiss, Garcia, Rossi, and Alvez are in the second car and the rest are in the first. The ride up is companionably silent but when they disembark long enough after the second car that the corridor is empty of their colleagues - Alvez leading the way - Rossi last - Prentiss clears her throat and asks Garcia for "a word".
Luke and Pen share the quickest of looks - then with a smile and a cheerful "Anything for you mon cap-pi-taine!" Garcia allows herself to be ushered into her boss's hotel room - Rossi invites himself in too but gives Luke a pointed if regretful look as he closes the door on the younger Agent.
Luke seriously debates at least knocking - maybe insisting loudly that he be let in too - or just breaking down the damn door… but he ultimately pushes down the hurt and worry and decides to just go wait in his room and listen for Penelope's return and hopefully a knock at their adjoining door.
"Penelope, I have two things to ask you and you can say no to either of them or both. I will not order you but I do want you to make up your own mind."
"So that's why you guys locked out the Newbie? I mean, I get it, but aren't you two the ones always telling me to be nicer to him?"
Rossi watches his boss arch her eyebrows at their beloved technical analyst refusing to change the subject. When Penelope realizes she is not going to win this one she huffs and flounces over to the chair to make herself comfortable for the pitch, Rossi plunks down on the bed - eager to see if Prentiss is going to ask what he is expecting - and smiles as he is struck, not for the first time, how much he respects and loves these two women.
"Lay it on me, Boss, before I get nervous and grumpy and say 'no' in a fit of unthinking revenge. C'mon! Hurry hurry! It's been a long day and bed is calling!"
Prentiss' seriousness drops in the face of these antics and a glossy smile and deep chuckle bubbles out despite herself.
"Alright! Alright! First, I'd like you to help deliver the profile tomorrow. You've done it before on cases with digital considerations - so I know you know how we do it and how insightful you can be - but this would be a bit different since I am asking you to be there as an expert on your personal experience. Technically I shouldn't even ask, but I really think your participation could be invaluable."
"That makes sense. I'm in. Next?"
"The next one is the bigger ask…and it might not even be necessary. We'll have to talk about it as a team before anything is put in motion. Also you don't have to make up your mind right away - and even if you agree - you will have an opportunity to reconsider - but I will not even bring up the option for discussion with the team unless you give me permission first..."
Rossi starts nodding - but his smile has vanished and he's pretty sure he's guessed two for two.
"So here's what I am asking: while we of course will be pursuing the typical investigative channels - there is another option we could explore - but it would be dangerous and I am not convinced it is either worth the risk nor even remotely guaranteed to work. Essentially what I am thinking is that we could mount a sting. We could bait the unsub by posing you and another Agent as a happy couple. You'd need to wear padding since you don't quite fit the body type our unsub is targeting - but I think we could make it work. I mean-"
"Emily? I'm in. Bring the idea to the team."
"You're sure?"
"Yep. And now I am leaving - if that's all? This woman is T.I.R.E.D. Capiche?"
"Of course! Go! Get some sleep!"
Penelope heads for the door - she wasn't lying when she said bed was calling to her - but just before she disappears into the hall, she turns to her boss with a twinkle.
"Em? I'm not going to lie - it's the first ingenue role I've been considered not fat enough to play. It's a nice change. Night, Boss. Night, Monseigneur Rossi!"
To be continued…